


The Wolf and The Rabbit

by topshelf



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blood, Coming In Pants, F/F, Grinding, Rutting, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topshelf/pseuds/topshelf
Summary: There is something about Moira that makes Angela very uncomfortable. Maybe it's those strong hands.





	The Wolf and The Rabbit

The sound of breaking glass echoed throughout the dark hallway, followed by a strained yelp. Dr. Angela Zeigler looked back towards the noise, eyes landing on the sliver of light escaping from a cracked door at the end of the hall. After eighteen hour rounds, Angela just wanted to go home and relax with a glass (or three) of wine, hand already on the door. A twitch of the wrist and a sigh later, Angela spun around and walked down the hall, sneakers squeaking on the tile. 

Angela knocked softly on the door and craned her neck to peer in the room. “Hello?” she called, “Are you alright?” At first, the room seemed empty, lit only by a lamp just inside the door and the rhythmic blinking of laboratory equipment. “Hello?” Angela stepped further into the room and finally noticed a figure hunched over the bench in the middle of the lab. 

The figure shot up with a start. The inexplicably tall and slender frame of Moira O'Deorain turned to face Angela. “Oh, Dr. Zeigler,” her smooth voice filled the room, “I didn’t see you there.” 

“Are you alright? I heard something break,” Angela said, noticing the shattered beaker that lie on the table beside Moira. Moira glanced at the glass and dismissively waved a hand over the mess. 

“Just a little workplace hazard,” Moira said with a smirk. Angela noticed the blood on Moira’s hand, beginning to run slightly down her wrist. 

“You’re bleeding,” Angela said, taking a step forward. Moira looked down at her hand, admiring the way the blood pooled in the crevices of her palm.

“Ah, would you look at that,” she replied, the smirk still firmly planted on her face. Something about Moira made Angela feel very uncomfortable -- maybe it was her nonchalance, maybe it was the rumors that she was engaged in highly unethical genetic research. Or maybe it was something about that angled jawline that Angela really wanted to kiss. Regardless, Moira made Angela uneasy. It didn’t help when Moira’s tongue darted out of her mouth and lapped up a trail of blood that had begun to drip down her forearm. 

Angela’s face wrinkled in disgust and Moira let out a low laugh. “Ah, come on Dr. Ziegler, can’t be the worst thing you’ve seen today,” she said, smirk widening into what could only be described as a wolfish grin. Angela flinched, animal instinct urging her to flee from a dangerous predator. 

Embarrassed by the flinch, Angela stiffened and reminded herself that Moira was as human as anyone else. “It looks pretty bad,” she said, taking her bag off her shoulder and setting it on the floor. “Let me go grab a biopen and--”

“No, it’s fine,” Moira interrupted, and Angela felt oath override discomfort and stepped forward again.

“Dr. O’Deorian, I can’t in all good conscious leave someone injured. Let me help.” Moira’s eyes darted over Angela and she again felt exposed beneath her gaze, as if she was being sized up for dinner. She held fast, hoping that she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. 

Moira finally broke the gaze and she gestured a bloody finger towards the shelves just behind Angela. “Should be an old-fashioned aid kit in there,” she said, turning back towards the lab table. 

Angela reached up and found the aid kit on the top shelf, caked in a thick layer of dust. She hadn’t used of these since med school (biotic healing could quite literally erase injury -- who needed gauze anymore?) and Angela smiled softly to herself, remembering the early days of her medical career. She let the smile dissipate as she turned back towards Moira, suddenly nervous again about the prospect of touching her. _Ach, get it together,_ she thought. 

Angela walked over and set the aid kit down on the lab table beside Moira and opened it. “Let me see your hand,” she said, reaching out her own. Moira glanced down at the outstretched hand and hesitated before sighing and placing her own in Angela’s. Angela tensed slightly; Moira’s hand was strong and soft and Angela had a sudden, involuntary thought about what it might feel like wrapped around her throat-- 

“ _Ach je_ , Moira!” Angela exclaimed, snapping back to reality as she noticed a glimmer embedded in Moira’s palm. “You’re full of glass.” She reached down into the aid kit and found a pair of tweezers and began to gently pluck the shards from Moira’s skin. “What happened?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Moira snapped and Angela looked up, inadvertently making eye contact. Moira’s mismatched eyes glared back at her, sculpted brows furrowed. Angela quickly looked back down to Moira’s hand, a cold shiver cascading down her spine. She could tell that Moira had crushed the glass in her hand, likely in frustration and Angela had another flash of Moira’s hand clutched around her throat, that mouth bearing wolf-like teeth as lack of oxygen blurred the edges of Angela’s vision, clit throbbing between her legs--

“Oi!” Moira’s exclamation snapped Angela back and she immediately felt a hot wave of embarrassment crash over her. She looked down to see the large shard of glass she’d extracted from Moira’s hand. 

“Sorry,” Angela muttered. “That’s the last of them.” She put down the tweezers and reached into the aid kit for an alcohol swab and a roll of gauze. Angela began to swab the wounds on Moira’s hands, trying not to look at her while she did it. She felt Moira’s gaze on her again, intently watching her every move. Angela kept her eyes down as she wrapped Moira’s hand with gauze, taking extra care to wrap it evenly. Once she finished, Angela brought herself to meet Moira’s gaze. “A-all done,” she said, breath caught slightly in her throat. 

“Thank you, Dr. Zeigler,” Moira said curtly, pulling her hand away quicker than Angela anticipated. She turned away, tapping lightly on the touchscreen above the table. Angela stole another glance towards her, eyes scanning Moira’s tall, lithe frame. _Stop_ , she thought to herself, putting away the materials in the aid kit before walking back towards the door. 

As she reached down to pick up her bag, Angela sensed Moira’s eyes on her again and froze like a rabbit caught in a wolf’s hungry gaze. She stood still as Moira’s shoes clicked on the floor closer and closer to her, until she could feel Moira’s warmth directly behind her. “Angela,” Moira nearly whispered, voice low and dangerously close to Angela’s ear. Angela’s breath quickened and she shut her eyes briefly, mind racing to calculate if this was going to be a huge mistake before spinning to face the woman behind her.

Moira reached over Angela’s head and pushed the door closed, inching closer until Angela was flat against it. Angela stared up at her, feeling her face flush. The wolf’s grin returned to Moira’s face and she leaned in to whisper in Angela’s ear. “Are you afraid of me?” she purred, and Angela could barely hear her over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. 

“Y-yes,” Angela squeaked out, ashamed and aroused and altogether astonished by Moira. Moira slid her knee between Angela’s legs and Angela pressed herself down onto it, the sudden pressure pulling an involuntary gasp from her lips. Moira chuckled darkly into her ear and the gasp coalesced into a moan and Angela felt exposed, completely at Moira’s mercy and enthralled by it. 

Moira began placing small kisses behind Angela’s ear, tilting her neck up to expose her throat. “P-please,” Angela sputtered through ragged breaths. “ _Bitte_ , Moira.” 

“You want me to put you out of your misery?” Moira teased, tongue tracing the contours of Angela’s jawline. Angela was practically whimpering and reached out to take Moira’s bandaged wrist, holding it up to her throat. Moira chuckled and placed her hand gently on Angela’s neck, stopping before applying pressure. She caught Angela’s eyes and let her expression soften just enough to gauge Angela’s consent -- Angela took the hint and nodded, still grinding ever so slightly on Moira’s knee. Moira flashed her wolfish smile one more time and gripped Angela’s throat, squeezing down with calculated pressure.

Angela’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she choked out a long moan, now grinding furiously on Moira’s knee. Moira’s large hand covered her entire throat, and Angela felt so wonderfully surrendered to Moira’s will. Her clit throbbed and she rutted shamelessly against Moira’s leg, the edges of her consciousness just beginning to erode as she panted heavily. The darkness slowly formed a fuzzy halo around Angela’s vision and just as she began to feel herself slip out, Moira released her hand from Angela's throat.

The rush of oxygen and endorphins took Angela over the edge and she came with a strangled shriek, grinding heavily on Moira’s knee until the waves of her orgasm broke over her entire body. Breathing heavily, Angela looked up at Moira and found the other woman staring back, that wolfish grin still plastered across her features.

“Well Dr. Zielger,” Moira laughed. “Thank you for your first aid. I’ll certainly remember this the next time something _breaks_.” Moira did little to hide the menacing emphasis on her last word. 

Flustered, Angela collected herself and her things and left Moira’s lab, shuffling quickly down the hall. She was more afraid of Moira than she’d ever been.


End file.
